


To fly away or fly towards (some freedom feels like a cage)

by Bamf_babe



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Gore, Chiyoh deserves the best, F/F, M/M, Medical Procedures, Minor Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Oral Sex, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Whump, and I am giving it to her, and his ex, in the form of Hannibal's money, sex next to your own severed leg in a pool of your ex's blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:08:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28819767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bamf_babe/pseuds/Bamf_babe
Summary: “Two birds breaking the bars of their cage,” Chiyoh said, “I wonder what we will do next?”Bedelia chuckled, “If only I knew what the outside of the cage might contain I could feel a further sense of pride. All I see is violence.”“Violence is another form of devotion.”“It is not the devotion I prefer."...When Chiyoh rescues Hannibal and Will from certain death at sea, she takes them to Bedelia Du Maurier's house to heal.
Relationships: Chiyoh/Bedelia Du Maurier, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Kudos: 13
Collections: Hannibal Flash Fic #002





	To fly away or fly towards (some freedom feels like a cage)

Any other night, Chiyoh would have been hard-pressed to see even a speck in the ocean during the night. But the moon hung full in the sky, casting light over the soft rises and falls of seafoam. It would have looked peaceful, but she felt the thrum of energy and tension in her back. She had a job tonight. The outboard motor of the speedboat made a quiet hum as she turned the corner into the rocky bay. She half expected to see nothing, to understand that all her possible plans for tonight had fallen through and she would soon be heading back to her hotel room where another postcard would be waiting. 

Instead, she saw, desperately grasping against one of the rocks poking out of the seabed, Hannibal Lecter. She moved the boat towards the man and saw that pressed up tight against him was Will. Chiyoh let out a wry smile, at this point, she would have expected nothing else. 

For the past few years, she had spent her time traveling and experiencing everything she had forbidden herself from during her exile at Castle Lecter. To see an animal like Hannibal caged had given a sense of retribution during this time. She allowed herself to feel this sense of accomplishment in his capture, knowing it wouldn’t last forever. When an alert appeared on her phone letting her know that Hannibal had escaped, accused of killing an entire squad of agents protecting him, Chiyoh had booked a flight as quickly as she was able. 

Going to the cliff-house had been the obvious choice. She knew he would be there, it was the place he had taken his birds, his playthings, many times before. It had been one of the many properties listed in his estate. 

Once Hannibal had been declared legally insane, Chiyoh had received a notice that she was now the sole heir and beneficiary of the Lecter estate. When she had been taken in by Lady Murasaki, the family had adopted her and while her time Murasaki and Robert Lecter had more resembled a finishing school than a family, she was legally a Lecter, no matter how much she may detest the name. The elegance and comfort the money afforded her had been welcome, but the burden of the history of her inheritance had not. 

Still, it seemed only reasonable to be there for Hannibal once he had been freed from his self-imposed cage. Chiyoh stopped the boat’s motor and reached out to Hannibal. He wouldn’t move, panting softly. 

“Will...first,” Hannibal said, his accent thicker than normal as he struggled to breathe. 

She cocked an eyebrow and said, “I might be between iron and silver, but remember Hannibal, silver is one of the most malleable metals known to man. It appears you have allowed yourself to be changed and shaped like common ore.”

His eyes narrowed under his wet hair, a slight anger in his eyes but acceptance as well. 

“To be changed can be beautiful,” he said, words stuttering and slow. 

Chiyoh figured there was no point in drawing out his suffering, not when there was who knows how many bodies cooling up at that house. She reached out and pulled Will onto the boat, bringing Hannibal on but a moment later. 

The second he was on stable ground, he collapsed, holding his side in pain. Ah, it appeared he had been shot. She checked Will to make sure he was breathing. He seemed to have a stab wound in his shoulder and one in his cheek. She brought out bandages and made a quick, tourniquet, stemming the blood loss for now. Hannibal was staying conscious so Chiyoh pulled out a syringe and pushed the plunger into his arm muscle. 

“Codeine,” she said matter of factly, watching as Hannibal leaned against the inside of the boat and began to relax as the heavy painkiller made its way through his body.

“I must confess I had no idea you would be here. I had planned to attempt to swim a ship hidden in a small cave off,” he tilted his head towards a small inlet in the cove where Chiyoh could see the metallic glint of a boat.

“And you likely wouldn’t have made it.”

“It was a possibility. Now I will never know.”

“And you ought to be grateful for that lack of knowledge.”

Hannibal seemed to give up the conversation, deflating into himself and sinking into the floor of the small boat, “My thanks for your gift of ignorance.”

Chiyoh turned towards Hannibal as she made her way to the steering wheel, starting the boat, “Where were you going?”

Hannibal’s eyes were drooping and his speech was slurred but she was able to make out his words, “We would have visited an...old friend.”

Then before he could say another word he passed out. Chiyoh sighed. He wouldn’t have made it to the boat in the cave. They both needed medical attention and quickly. An old friend….Chiyoh smiled and started up the boat. She knew of one person in the area with both medical experience and an understanding of the situation. That particular bird would likely be unhappy to see her, but who knew, people often surprised her. 

Bedelia Du Maurier’s home just outside of Baltimore appeared intimidating and sharp to all who came near it. The jutting rock structures seemed to forma circular cage around her. Chiyoh wondered if Bedelia was trapped or if she was simply trying to protect herself in any way she knew how, down to even the architecture of her home. 

When she entered the home, classical music was softly playing, drifting through the space. She held her rifle close to her chest as she entered the space. What she expected to find was Bedelia tying up in preparation for the heroin needle about to enter her veins. What she found was the woman seemingly sitting silently at a table, eyes unfocused. 

There were three chairs and the table was lavishly decorated, although many of the appetizers and side appeared they had been laying out for days. The candlelight cast a soft glow onto the woman's face and then Chiyoh noticed the missing leg. 

It appeared Bedelia had prepared herself for Hannibal as well. She walked over to the woman, and leaned down, setting the gun on the floor. 

“How,” Chiyoh began, leaning in close to Bedelia, “Inspire such devotion?”

Bedelia laughed, an echoing, hollowing sound. 

“I knew what my price would be once I heard Hannibal escaped, I supposed I wanted to pay it on my own terms.”

“He needs your help.”

“I supposed he would.”

“Are you well enough to help?”

Bedela looked down at her missing leg and looked up at Chiyoh.

“I might be able to direct you but I doubt I could be of much use myself.”

“And what guarantee do I have that you won’t direct me to kill him using my own hands?”

Bedelia gave her a smile that was all sharp teeth, “You don’t.”

Chiyoh nodded, accepting the possibility of this risk and returned to her car, first bringing out Hannibal who was far more gravely injured. She lay his body on the table, pushing aside the luxurious decorations and watching as Bedelia’s leg slid across the table. He didn’t wake. Blood sluggishly leaked out from his abdomen and he looked extremely pale. 

She looked at Bedelia, “What do I do?”

“There’s a medical kit in the kitchen, large black bag, you will have to follow my instructions exactly.”

She got the bag and opened it, recognizing some though not all of the tools within. 

“Check the airway, his breathing, his pulse and expose the wound.”

She nodded, making sure Hannibal was able to breathe, despite his unconscious state and then took the scissors and cut the lower half of his sweater off him, exposing the bullet hole.

“Now look for the entry and exit wound.”

Chiyoh was able to quickly identify where the bullet had entered in his lower left abdomen and luckily it appeared there was a clean exit wound out of his back as well. When she relayed this to Bedelia the woman nodded, her eyes beginning to show hints of pain as whatever drugs she has used on herself to cut off and cook her own leg began to wear off. 

“Now,” Bedelia began, gasping in slight pain, “You want to clean the wound, apply pressure...use an occlusive dressing, left pocket of the bag. Look for signs of distension, you would see it by now.”

Chiyoh searched for the ballooning that would indicate ruptured organs but there didn’t seem to be any. Hannibal had come out of that gunshot wound looking far better than most would have. She knew the man had likely tried to angle himself for the “best” injury possible. Pretentious bastard. 

Silently, she began the process of treating Hannibal. Bedelia watching on with increasingly pained eyes. She tried to work quickly, knowing Will would still be slowly bleeding out in the car just outside. She moved Hannibal to Bedelia’s bedroom, setting up an IV and putting the needle into his arm. It would have to be enough. 

Will was easier to treat and Chiyoh was lucky that she had encountered enough stab wounds in her line of work that Bedelia’s direction was not nearly as needed. He appeared to have bruised ribs, likely from the fall but those were easily bandaged and wrapped. 

His cheek would scar. Chiyoh hoped he wasn’t attached to his facial symmetry. Will was laid out right besides Hannibal in the bed, an IV in his arm as well. Chiyoh nodded at the two men sleeping before moving back into the dining room. 

She was always amazing at how Hannibal managed to toy with people’s minds, manipulate them. She remembered when he was a boy, how he would convince the butcher’s daughter to let him in the backroom, how he would toy with her idea of romance until the day he killed her father, how his lies felt like honey and how she had spent decades trying to protect the memory of a girl she never met. 

Bedelia’s eyes were pinpricks and Chiyoh leaned down towards her, taking off her jacket and leaning against the table. 

“How is the pain.”

Bedelia’s blue eyes locked locked with Chiyoh’s brown and she answered in a short tone, “Fantastic.”

“Are you looking for more drugs?”

“No.”

“Are you looking to suffer?”

Bedelia paused for a moment then at length answered, “No.”

“Then why did you do this to yourself, why did you mutilate yourself in a cage of your own making, surely Hannibal could not have told you to take these steps?”

“He didn’t have to. I knew. I’ve been having dreams of him doing this to me for years and I haven’t been able to escape them, to outrun them. I decided to take the steps for myself, to never give him the satisfaction.”

Chiyoh had always had an understanding of Hannibal’s pathology. She had listened at the doors as a young boy screamed into the night, whispering that his sister was dead, that she was being eaten. She had seen how his eyes lingered on every table, on every piece of meat. She had seen that same look in his eyes as he looked at people. There had never been a moment of Hannibal’s life that Chiyoh hadn’t understood exactly what he was. Too often, she simply chose to forget. Now, confronted once more with his pathology and how it had infected the woman in front of her, Chiyoh felt a sense of kinship with Bedelia. 

The psychiatrist had confronted Hannibal’s pathology by making it her own and now he had no recourse left with her. It was an interesting path and not one she would have chosen for herself but it was beyond too late to begrudge the woman. 

“Two birds breaking the bars of their cage,” Chiyoh said, “I wonder what we will do next?”

Bedelia chuckled, “If only I knew what the outside of the cage might contain I could feel a further sense of pride. All I see is violence.”

“Violence is another form of devotion.”

“It is not the devotion I prefer,” Bedelia said, leaning closer towards Chiyoh who was now sitting on the table, gloves laid down beside her.

Chiyoh leaned in towards Bedelia, their faces mere inches apart, illuminated by the candlelight of the elaborate table setting.

“What devotion do you desire?”

“A devotion of the heart.”

“And if I were to offer up mine for the night?”

“I would take it,” Bedelia said, and Chiyoh took the opportunity to move into Bedelia’s space and capture her lips in a kiss. It was hungry and within moments Bedelia’s arms were undoing the buttons of Chiyoh’s coat, her shirt. She pulled off her own shoes and pants quickly as she could. 

Chiyoh’s hands moved to pull down the intricate black lace dress covering Bedelia’s shoulders. She was bare underneath, leaving her breasts exposed and Chiyoh moved, standing and helping Bedlia stand so she could place her on top of the table, the black dress pooling around Bedelia’s wasit while her top half was bare. 

Hannibal and Will’s blood from her impromptu treatment of their wound still congealed on the table. The candlelight made it appear to be a dark, almost black color on the mahogancy of the table. Bedelia’s dress soaked up the blood and Chiyoh couldn’t help staining her hands with the blood as she brought Bedelia up onto the table. 

Bedelia’s hands undid the clasp of Chiyoh’s bra and it fell away and then Chiyoh was pushing her hands into Bedelia’s hair and kissing her ever stronger. 

“Did you know during sex the body releases our natural painkilllers? They become the strongest post-climax.” Bedelia said, gasping after pulling away.

  
“Then I suppose I should try to make this faster,” Chiyoh said, “To spare you any further pain.”

She gently lay Bedelia’s head down onto the table, letting it rest besides her own cooked leg and slowly pulling down Bedelia’s dress, setting it on the floor. The woman now lay on the table completely nude and Chiyoh felt a thrill at the sight of Bedelia completely relaxed against the hardwood of the table. The blood seeped into her blonde hair, staining it the red color of still-wet blood and she appeared to have a halo of red around her. Chiyoh saw as the blood pooled under her back as she rested. 

Chiyoh let her arms run up Bedelia’s shortened left thigh and come to rest at her hip. She avoided the bandages, knowing how sensitive the area would be. 

She pushed up, bringing her shoulder up and under Bedelia’s leg, letting the stump of her left thigh rest against her as Chiyoh moved in towards Bedelia’s cunt. 

“Please,” Bedelia said, already wet with anticipation. 

Chiyoh moved her tongue into Bedelia slit, swirling and loving the small gasps and moans coming out of the women. 

“It...hurts,” Bedelia said, “god, please, more.”

Chiyoh was all too happy to oblige, making a sucking motion as she moved her fingers into Bedelia’s already slick pussy, loving how easy it was to push herself inside of Bedelia. Bedelia didn’t seem to notice or mind the blood on Chiyoh’s hands. She was warm and welcoming to her hand and Bedelia’s hips jerked up, pushing against Chiyoh desirous of what she was offering. Chiyoh pulled back from Bedelia’s pussy to see blood sticking to her back as she arched up from the table as Chiyoh’s fingers pushed inside her.

Bedelia shuddered and Chiyoh felt herself grow wet as well, soaking through the underwear she still had on and she used her other hand to stop bracing herself against the table and reach down to down herself, rubbing against her own clit as she ate Bedelia out. Blood stained the inside of her thighs as she frantically moved her hand around her clit, the motion causing the blood from her hand to smear on herself. 

They moaned and pushed into each until Bedelia let out a loud moan, shuddering against Chiyoh's mouth as she came, her fluids rushing towards Chiyoh’s face who drank it in. She felt herself shuddering as well as Bedelia’s completion brought her to her own. The success of getting Bedelia off still left Chiyoh feeling ready for more but Bedelia seemed to be in a blissful haze, her pain lessened. 

She gazed at her own leg, the cooked silent companion watching on as the body it had been separated from enjoyed being eaten out while it sat there, untouched. Chiyoh had no interest in taking Hannibal’s pathology as her own. But she did suppose it would be wasteful and disappointing to see Bedelia’s work go to waste. She could put it in the fridge, Hannibal and Will would surely appreciate it once they awoke. 

“Thank you,” Bedelia said once she was able to speak.

“Freed birds have to stay together, it’s a dangerous world out here.”

Bedelia laughed and Chiyoh helped her to the couch where she brought a blanket around the two of them and watched the fire slowly burn in front of them. 

“I am going to have to return the favor once I am well enough,” Bedelia said, leaning heavily against Chiyoh. 

“I would welcome it, but for now, let us rest,” Chiyoh said, “I would say we have earned the opportunity.”

She looked over to see Bedelia already sleeping, exhausted from her ordeals. Chiyoh found herself yawning and fell asleep just a few moments later, satisfaction permeating her entire body. 

When she awoke, the candles had burned out but the fire was still weakly burning, the gas keeping it lit. The light coming through the wide windows was bright and she got up, still naked, and closed the curtains, returning darkness to the room. 

It looked to have only been a few hours so Chiyoh got up and re-dressed herself to begin the process of cleaning up the table despite not wanting to wear the same outfit still covered in Hannibal and Will’s blood. Within an hour, Bedelia’s dining hall was as clean as it had been before. She went into Bedelia’s room to see about getting the other woman some clothes to wear for the day. Once she saw the woman’s closet however, she decided to change for herself as well. 

The shower felt perfect against her skin and it felt good to wash the dried and crusted blood off her body. She dressed in a simple black pant suit Bedelia owned and as she stepped out of the bathroom dressed, she noticed Will waking up. 

His eyes fluttered open and then he focused on Chiyoh holding a set of clothes. 

“What-” he started but Chiyoh raised her free hand and held her hand in a gesture of silence, pointing towards Hannibal with her nose. Will looked over and saw Hannibal, sleeping next to him and for a moment there was an inexplicable fondness in his eyes. 

“So you saved us.”

Chiyoh nodded, “He thought he would be able to swim you to the boat he had hidden away. I found him gasping against a rock at a loss as for what to do next.”

“He overestimated himself.”

“His pride has always been a particular source of weakness for him.”

Will shook his head, sitting up slowly as not to disturb Hannibal. He took out the IV and clutched his shoulder in pain with one hand and his ribs with the other. 

“It hurts to talk.”

“It will hurt more to look in the mirror.”

Will looked around the room and didn’t seem to recognize anything, “Where did you take us?”

“Bedelia Du Maurier’s.”

He let out a wry chuckle, “I suppose she was happy to see us.” 

“As a matter of fact she was prepared for your arrival, would you like to finish this conversation over a meal?”

He stood up on shaking legs but found his balance quickly. 

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

Chiyoh walked out of the room, moving first to the living room and setting the clothes down besides the still sleeping Bedelia who had dyed the couch red with blood and had it crusted and dried in her hair. She likely wouldn’t be pleased with that. 

She then moved to the kitchen where Will was staring at a pair of cutting boards with bemusement. They were simple and made of wood but with an intricate resin design that looked like the sea on the ends and handles. 

“You know,” Will said, “I expected to die falling off that cliff.”

“I didn’t check for a concussion,” Chiyoh said, “You still might.”

“I can’t believe we are in Baltimore, in Bedelia’s home. This doesn’t feel real...I...I don’t know what to do next.”

Chiyoh shrugged, “I suppose that if for you and Hannibal to discover. I know who I am and what I want my life to be. I came as a family courtesy to help. I don’t plan on following Hannibal around any further than perhaps helping you two find your way to some remote corner of the world.”

“Tired of always walking two steps behind him?”

Chiyoh brought some eggs from the fridge and turned to Will who already had a pan out, “I haven’t been walking behind Hannibal for years now. I have my independence. I will leave the codependency of violence for you.”

She moved past Will who had frozen at her statement and cracked the eggs, the sound seemingly sharp in the quiet home. 

Will didn’t say anything for a long time while she cooked. Then he spoke up, “What do they think happened to us?”

“Don’t know.”

He was silent for another few minutes before he spoke again, “You said you wanted Hannibal caged, what changed?”

She scooped a spoonful of eggs onto a plate and handed them to Will, “I suppose I learned that what Hannibal is, it’s not my responsibility. I would recommend you do the same but in your relationship I feel it is the other way around. Hannibal is the one responsible for you just as you are responsible for him.”

“Intertwined,” Will said. 

“Hardly to be separated,” Hannibal said, coming into the kitchen holding his abdomen tightly. He moved to the seat and Chiyoh knew it was only his exhaustion that kept him from turning up his nose at the food. She watched as he ate small bites, transfixed. Hannibal had hated eating anything he hadn’t made with his own hands as long as she remembered. This was out of the norm. But then, looking at the softened way he held himself, the slight slump in his posture, it appeared that perhaps he had changed in ways she couldn’t comprehend yet. 

She looked at the two of them. The way Will stood across the kitchen island and stared into Hannibal’s eyes. The way they seemed to be having a conversation within their own minds. Chiyoh broke Hannibal out of it by looking at him until he returned her gaze. 

“As you know I have control of the estate now.”

Hannibal nodded, “As I had hoped. Apologies if anyone found out and contacted you. I know I received a certain amount of media attention after my” his lip curled a bit, “surrender.”

Chiyoh knew Hannibal was not particularly apologetic. He was asking if anyone knew. If anyone knew of their familial connection. 

“Luckily I was not contacted by anyone. The channels you used remained private.”

“Ah.”

“I created an alias for you which you can use to access the accounts. I hope you can figure the rest yourself?”

Hannibal nodded and Chiyoh moved to leave the kitchen, “I suppose you do need a moment alone.”

When Chiyoh entered the living room, Bedelia was already sitting there, dressed and cleaning in the power-blue outfit Chiyoh had picked from her closet. A pair of crutches leaned against the chair. 

“I suppose they are in the kitchen?”

“Yes.”

Bedelia sighed, sitting on one of the clean chairs in the room, “I find myself both relieved and revilved.”

Chiyoh moved the sit on the edge of the chair, leg brushing against Bedelia’s. 

“I do not find that surprising.”

“I do not either. I do suppose I should go and give my greetings.” 

She moved to stand up, reaching for the crutches but Chiyoh grabbed her hand. 

“You don’t owe them a thing.”

Bedelia laughed, “It is far too late for that. While I would like them gone as soon as possible, I certainly don’t object to your presence, I don’t suppose you would be amiable to staying?”

Chiyoh thought for a moment, “I have a job. I travel a lot for it. However, in between, I don’t have many places to stay. I wouldn’t be opposed to...coming back to visit.”

She helped Bedelia up to get her crutches and the two of them moved back into the kitchen where Will was staring at the open fridge in horror where Bedelia’s roasted leg was sitting. Hannibals had a new cut on his neck which had blood slowly dripping from it he wasn’t bothering to treat and Will had a knife in his free hand. Chiyoh didn’t have the energy to address it. 

“Hannibal?” he said accusingly, looking at the man sitting at the counter. 

“For once,” Hannibal said, “I’m afraid I can’t lay claim to that. Would you suppose in my injured and unconscious state I awoke in order to prepare elaborate meals?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” Will grumbled, eyes widening at seeing Bedelia and his missing leg. 

“Hello Bedelia,” Hannibal said.

“Hello Hannibal,” she said, sitting down besides him. 

“I see you’ve been acting rather proactively,” he said motioning to the leg. 

“I wouldn’t want to disappoint, hopefully it can be a nice parting meal between the two of us.”

“I certainly would not object,” Hannibal said with a cruel smile. 

Will sighed and Chiyoh poured a glass of water for herself. She had come for Hannibal out of a sense of obligation and an interest for the man who had manipulated her so much. Now, she had found something new and worth exploring. She looked over at Bedelia and smiled. The future was looking bright.


End file.
